Page 5 of Unspoken Confessions
What if I suddenly lose my hearing?
What if I forget how to speak?
What if I spit my water out?
What if I trip?
And so on.
Those thoughts went for anything that I did publicly.
Yeah, I was just a sad man in a fake shell.
To everyone on the outside, I was confident. I exuded charm and sex appeal.
But the truth was, I was so afraid of breaking all of the illusions that everyone had built up of me that it was nearly crippling.
I wasn’t perfect. Not even close.
And privately, I was alright with that. Except I didn’t have the luxury of having a private life. There were simply too many people out there that I couldn’t disappoint.
I sighed as I flopped down in the white chair behind the decent-sized desk.
I loved this room. This one room I had full control of and Jen had helped me look for the items that were currently in it. There wasn’t much because I didn’t want any distractions. There was the desk, which was as basic as you could get. A large, thick piece of glass supported by a simplistic metal frame. A high back office chair made of smooth plush white leather. It had a nice padded headrest which was important. There was an overstuffed white love seat on the opposite wall. As well as a few lamps, all identical with metal bases and white shades. Minimal and plain. The desk was clutter-free, only having a few things that I considered a necessity. A holder for a few pens, highlighters, and permanent markers. Things I would need at any given moment. And there were two short, wire bins big enough to hold scripts. The one on the left was anopile, which Jen would empty out the moment something went in there, I swear. And the one on the right was anewpile of scripts that had come in that I had to go through. Anything that I was thinking about would remain in the middle of the desk until I was sure about it.
Currently, there was a stack of things from my agent. All of which were sitting there ready and waiting for me to read through. I hadn’t reached for any of them since they arrived.
I was sure all of them were nearly the same. A slightly altered version of the character I always played.
It hit me then, all of the parts they wanted me for weren’t the ones I was interested in. I honestly didn’t even know what I wanted but I was ready for a change.
With a huff, I picked up the script on the top of the pile and flipped it open.
I began to read, knowing immediately what part they were looking at me for.
It just didn’t feel right anymore.
I was twenty-seven. And while I still looked young, I didn’t think I had it in me to play the late high school or even college-age roles any longer.
Maybe it was time to take a break. I’d been doing project after project for almost ten years now. Vacation? Yeah, I didn’t know the meaning of the word. I was driven and focused, some would say a little too much. Even now when I was supposed to be in decompression mode, I was forcing myself to look for what was next. I guess it was saying something that I didn’t already have a job lined up at this point.
That was the thing, nothing had really caught my attention lately. Which didn’t make my agent happy. Truth be told, I wasn’t a fan of his but he’d been with me since I was young and though it wasn’t typically in his job description, he guided me in the right direction. He took this awkward kid and turned him into what I am now. It took years, let me tell you. Many different classes and diets and whatever else you can imagine to transform a dorky, clumsy kid with a slight speech impediment into the man before you now. Not many people would give me a chance or stick by me that long. I suppose the big checks I brought him helped with that. Lucky for me, when I was younger, my father had set up an account for my nanny to access with her name on it so my agent never knew who was paying the bill. I think Mick had gotten a big head since I broke out. He liked to give himself all the credit for discovering me. What he didn’t know was that I could have any role I wanted if I just let the world know who my father was. And while I’d started this career for my father, in a sense, I didn’t want to rest my success on his shoulders, something I knew he despised me for.
But I didn’t want to think about any of that.
So I threw myself into the script again, trying to get a feel. Or maybe trying to push myself into taking the role.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t working.
Maybe it just felt too easy.
